Come and Get Me
by DarkAngelOfSorrowReturns
Summary: "You know where to find me if you want me." / So he did. Written for Hermione's Haven Holiday Hideaway19!


Note: Written for Hermione's Haven's Holiday Hideaway19! Mistakes are my own.

Prompts: Dean/Hermione, Italy, All I Want For Christmas is You

* * *

_"You know where to find me if you want me." _

She brought the glass chute to her lips, tipping the object upwards so she could take down all the bubbly contents.

Hermione's intentions hadn't been to spend Christmas time in the Palace Catania alone, but she'd made the Muggle reservations in advance two months ago, seemingly for her one year anniversary with the love of her life. It wouldn't feel right if she'd brought one of her best friends along; she'd only feel worse.

It felt like one of those books she read in the past. The woman would the man, the man would make her fall in love with him, she would become heartbroken by his idiot ways, and somehow they would reconcile for their happily ever after.

Hermione met Sam Winchester at a conference for protecting supernatural beings. Apparently a nest of vampires didn't want all beings to work on one accord, and it had to be handled. Her identity as a witch was exposed saving the tall brunette man, but he had a secret of his own as a hunter. Somehow they became friends rather than enemies.

She fell for his roguish brother instead.

Things had flashed by quicker than she would have imagined when Dean entered her life. She countered him at every turn when Sam asked for her help, even if he knew the secret of her magic was eating at him because his brother was involved. They agreed that he had a right to know, and she planned to tell him before Christmas came about. She had to if she was going to explain to him how they were going to travel to Italy the non-Muggle way given his fear.

It did not go over too well.

_ "Dean! Stop being an asshole and put that down!" his brother exclaimed. His hands were raised in a surrendering manner looking between his brother wielding a blade and Hermione brandishing her wand. _

_ Dean's green, hazel eyes were glaring in her direction. She hated it because there was a flicker of something else besides hate within them, but the angry tears filling her eyes refused to acknowledge it further. _

_ "Make me, Sammy Boy," he said never breaking eye contact with Hermione. _

_ Hermione couldn't put Sam in this position. He'd been nothing but kind to her once he saw things differently; they knew Dean would react horribly. There was just a slither of hope that it wouldn't happen that way because of the advancements in their relationship. She knew his truth, and he deserved to know hers. _

_ The truth didn't have to hurt this much. _

_ Hardening her voice so the final pieces of her heart didn't fall through escaped tears, Hermione lowered her wand slowly. "I fought the prejudice against my nature for a decade," she said. "Our opposers had to learn that our blood spilled red just as theirs did. It's unfortunate that you will have to learn the same." _

_ She watched Dean stand there with the blade still raised; his hand never shook. When she closed her eyes, another tear fell, and then she decided she wouldn't waste more tears. _

_ "Furthermore, their influencer was the soulless monster, splitting his soul because he wasn't given proper love every being deserves. I would never do such a thing for magic because I know I'm a capable witch. And I'd like to keep my nose the way it is, thank you." _

_ With her chin as high as she could muster with faltering, she looked away from Dean to meet Sam's sympathetic smoky, hazel eyes. Hermione nodded softly and turned to Dean one final time. _

_ "I want a proper apology when you yank the moronic stick from your arse. You know where to find me if you want me." _

_ She turned on her heels and walked away. For a second, her heart wanted to believe that his hand finally shook in the end; her mind ultimately decided it was a trick of the light. _

The sound of a chair scraping against the paved floor pulled Hermione from her thoughts. She couldn't believe her eyes.

He was leaning back in the chair with an arm slung casually along its top. A weathered, brown leather jacket covered the majority of his navy shirt underneath, falling over his dark denim jeans. Hermione was certain he sported boots on his feet.

His dirty blond locks were cut in a similar spiky fashion that she remembered from before, and he expressed a cool, coy look in her direction.

"Dean?" Hermione blinked a few times as the subject of her thoughts made himself comfortable in the seat across from her. "What–? How–? What are you doing here?"

The blond man simply smirked then slapped the table. "Hey! Can we get a beer over here!" he called out, ignoring her and looking around presumably for service.

Hermione ran her hand over her face with an irritated scoff; she was not amused. "I didn't know you made international calls now," she said.

He opened his mouth to reply when a man set down a glass in front of him. As the man walked away, Dean lifted the glass and inspected it. "It's not in a bottle, but it'll have to do."

The brunette shook her head quickly in hopes that this was part of a twisted mirage to appease her loneliness. It wasn't. Unamused once again, Hermione cleared her throat. "_ Dean _."

Dean drew out a sigh, placed his glass of beer on a napkin, and leaned his arms on the table. "While I don't doubt there's some Godfather ghosts and vengeful spirits around here, I didn't come for any of that."

Hermione resisted the urge to correct him. She wasn't familiar with the reference herself, but she could feel that Dean didn't use it entirely correct.

"I came to get you."

That made Hermione pause and set her glass on the table. She watched him with narrowed eyes, her brow arched lightly. Those weren't the words she expected to hear from Dean. Hell, she didn't expect Dean to be sitting across from her at all.

"I beg your pardon. 'Get me'?" she questioned.

"That's what I said," he replied as he took a sip of his beer. "Me. You. Get."

She was flabbergasted–even though she really shouldn't have been–at his bold actions. "How are you even here? You detest flying."

The comment made Dean grimace for a quick second, but he recovered behind another drink of his beer. "You can thank Sammy for that. The sonuva bitch knocked me out for the flight. My mission still stands, but he handled the means."

"I'll offer him my undying gratitude for knocking you out," Hermione quipped, mostly sincere. "As for this mission in general," Hermione made circles in the air, "would you care to elaborate? The last time we were face to face, you aimed to slice me into pieces." She wished she had more bubbly. "Which you figuratively succeeded to do with my heart."

Dean frowned and shifted in his seat. He stared at the frothy liquid inside his glass for a moment or two, flickering his eyes back to Hermione's. She cursed herself for having butterflies rage inside her belly.

"I'm not the kind of guy that apologizes," he said. "Hell, I'm not the kind of guy that has or feels the need to say sorry for anything." Dean took a deep breath and tapped the table lightly with his fingertips. "I don't trust easily, and I grew up knowing one kind of witch and that kind only."

Hermione couldn't find the words she wanted to say for him to keep going, but her silence appeared to be enough because he continued.

"Then you came along. Keeping women beyond any reach was part of my code, and you trashed all of that. You're smart and mighty beautiful. You didn't run and handed me my ass when I needed it...I didn't want to believe that you were a soulless thing when you had more soul than my Rock classics."

The flush rushed to her cheeks faster than Ron running from spiders.

"At the time I didn't know anything different, so I had no choice as a hunter. Sammy and I were mad at each other for about two weeks after you left that night...but he helped me realize that I coulda reacted better so I'm making things right for Christmas."

"What if I'd been here with someone else?" She couldn't help but challenge him. It shouldn't be so easy to forgive him; it was the effect the man had on her. It was the love she couldn't erase.

"I woulda kicked his ass and wouldn't give a damn about it. I didn't respond the right way last time, baby, and I ain't making that mistake again."

Her heartbeat quickened and drummed in her ears. The intensity of his stare and lack of hesitation proved he spoke earnestly, and that was frightening. In the past, she would never associate Dean being serious with anything but his business as a hunter..and sometimes with Sam. In the past, she didn't trust him not to kill her because she was a witch. In the past, he made her know that he didn't trust himself with her.

"I'm sorry."

Merlin, they'd been together for a year, and that was the first time she'd heard those words come from his mouth. For the record, he never had to apologize to this degree, but it was still a big deal for Dean.

Speaking of the man, he was suddenly kneeling next to her chair, and Hermione felt his hands take hers.

"My Hermy Jean, will you forgive me and come back? Spending a day without you sucked and the entire month dragged like a bitch. I ain't the Christmas-y type, but if I could ask for one thing from the mythical, fat bastard it'd be you."

Hermione felt her body moving on its own and standing from her seat. She should be giving him a harder time than this. Why wasn't she giving a harder time than this?

"You said to find you if I want you," Dean continued, pulling her closer to his form. "I found you cause I need you, Hermy Jean."

Her heart won over logic and pettiness as his words were the final push in gravity; she leaned into him and their lips met in the middle. Dean wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly as the kiss deepened.

Hermione was breathless in more ways than one when they pulled away from one another. Dean had a lopsided grin, and the witch gripped his chin in a gentle yet firm way.

"A proper apology from Dean Winchester himself is a Christmas miracle," she murmured. "Let's see to it that you won't have to do it this way again, yes? Otherwise, it'll be the other family 'legacy' becoming the slicing target."

Dean hummed against her ear, keeping her close to him. "S'long as I got you and we get the hell back to American soil, you got no worries from me."

Hermione chuckled softly and kissed him again; she yearned for his touch. She read about women that fawned over their lovers in the books, and now she could see why. They had the power to hurt their women, but their love would allow them to get them back. She was okay with that.


End file.
